"Finer than what it is," retorted Mr. Jeminy, losing his temper, "finer
than what it is. Not the same, sad pattern."

"The old pattern is good enough for me," replied Mrs. Grumble.

"You're a fossil," said Mr. Jeminy.

Then Mrs. Grumble raised her voice in prayer. "Lord," she prayed,
"don't let me forget myself. Because if I do . . ."

"Yes, that's it," cried Mr. Jeminy, "stop up your ears . . ." And out
he went in a rage. Mrs. Grumble, left alone, looked after him with
flashing eyes and a heaving bosom. "Oh," she breathed, "if I could
only lay my hands on him."

But when she did, at last, lay hands on him, it was not in the way she
looked for, as she sat rocking up and down, waiting for him to come
home again.




IX

THE SCHOOLMASTER LEAVES HILLSBORO,
HIS WORK THERE SEEMINGLY AT AN END

Mr. Jeminy came slowly out of the post-office, and turned up the road
leading to his house. In one hand, crumpled in his pocket, he held his
dismissal from Hillsboro school: "On account of age," it said. Next